Pleasure shot through her in a jolt, and a hoarse cry tore from her throat as she arched off the heated bench and wrapped her legs around Marcus’s neck.
“Fuck, yes,” he rasped before his lips covered her swollen clit, sucking the supersensitive nub into his mouth.
Waves of white-hot sensation pulsed through her, every nerve in her pussy firing as cream gushed onto Marcus’s tongue. He groaned with satisfaction, burying his face deeper between her quivering thighs. Each hungry pull of his suckling mouth ratcheted up her need and sent her temperature soaring until she thought she would explode.
She writhed against his face and cupped her aching breasts, pinching and rolling the tight nipples between her fingers.
Marcus speared his tongue into her wet pussy and fucked her with his mouth until her head thrashed back and forth on the bench. Seconds later she came apart screaming his name, her legs shaking on his shoulders, muscles spasming around his tongue as he licked at her juices.
By the time he took his mouth off her, she was desperately ready to feel his rock-hard dick plunging deep inside her pussy.
As he stood and ripped his towel away, she sat up eagerly, her eyes riveted to the huge cock protruding from the apex of his powerful thighs.
“My, my, my,” she breathed.
Marcus gave her a fiercely carnal look as he sat down, grabbed her around the waist and lifted her over him.
Using his broad shoulders for balance, she straddled him again on the bench. He stared lustfully at her breasts before lifting his eyes to watch her face as she lowered herself onto his cock. Her pussy burned a little as the tender flesh stretched around his massive girth, causing her to whimper with pleasure.
Marcus groaned, eyes closing as his head fell back against the wall.
Once Samara had taken all of his length, she started riding him, her hips grinding slowly into his.
“Fuck, baby.” Marcus palmed her ass in both hands, groaning raggedly as she slid up and down the throbbing column of his cock.
She loved how hot and slick his skin was against hers, loved the sight of him beneath her, two hundred and thirty pounds of Grade A prime male.
The steaminess of the sauna had them dripping sweat and pheromones, the scent of sex intensified by the humidity. Samara rode Marcus’s big dick with long, greedy strokes, fucking him with feverish abandon as desperate mewls of ecstasy spilled from her lips.
“You feel so good,” she whimpered. “So fucking good.”
“So do you, baby.” His hands were like iron at her hips as he sucked her nipple, sending jolts of pleasure straight to her womb.
She held tight to his shoulders, her nails digging into the muscled flesh as she rocked on him, hips churning harder and faster. He gripped her ass cheeks, thrusting up into her as she thrust down. Their gasps and groans and the slap of skin on skin echoed around the steamy room.
As they came explosively together, Samara threw back her head and clamped her thighs around his waist, keeping him so deep inside her that she could feel every hot spurt of cum filling her spasming pussy.
When the last drop of semen had been wrung from his cock, Marcus let out a long, shuddering groan and collapsed back against the wall, taking Samara with him.
She nuzzled into his neck as he held her close, trying to catch his breath. She was breathing hard too, her pussy still contracting around his shaft. They were both drenched in sweat, their bodies glued hotly together.
“Wow,” Samara finally managed to croak.
Marcus made a rough sound that was almost a chuckle. “Wow, indeed.”
She licked his neck, tasting the salt of his skin. “I think I’m gonna need another shower after that workout.”
“We both are.” He stroked her sweat-slick skin, his hands sliding down the curve of her back to squeeze her ass. “The shower can be our last stop.”
Samara grinned. “How many stops do you have planned?”
“I don’t know,” he drawled. “We’ve got a big house. The possibilities are endless.”
“Indeed.” Lifting her head from his shoulder, Samara smiled into his sexy, heavy-lidded eyes and purred, “So where to next, lover?”
“How about a refreshing dip in the pool?” he murmured, licking her bottom lip and then the top. “I turned the temperature down, so it should be nice and cool.”
“Perfect,” Samara whispered against his mouth. “Let’s go.”
“Yes, ma’am.” With their bodies still joined, Marcus rose with her in his arms and carried her out of the sauna to their next pleasure spot.
4
Samara woke the next morning in Marcus’s arms, his hard body pressed close to hers as he spooned her under the sumptuous duvet covers.
Smiling languorously, she lay there luxuriating in his body heat and the protective strength of his embrace. She felt warm and lazy, cozy and secure. She wished she could lay there forever, but she knew the children would be waking up soon and needing attention.
And food. They would definitely want food.
But when she moved to get up, Marcus’s arm tightened beneath her breasts, holding her in place.
A slow grin curved her mouth. “Good morning.”
“Mornin’.” His voice was sleep-rough and sexy as hell. “Where do you think you’re going?”
Her grin widened. “The kids will be up soon.”
“But they’re not yet. So stay put.” He nuzzled closer to her, his breath heating the back of her neck. She shivered as he massaged her tender breast, tweaking her nipple into a hard point.
“Last night was amazing,” he murmured in a low rumble.
Samara smiled, her belly quivering. “I’m glad you enjoyed it.”
“Didn’t you?”
She laughed softly. “As many orgasms as I had, do you even have to ask?”
He chuckled, kissing the sensitive spot at her nape before sliding his warm mouth to her shoulder and gently nipping her.
She wiggled her bottom against him, grinning when he grew instantly hard. “Oh my,” she breathed.
“Indeed.” He trailed kisses down her arm, his thick cock digging into her ass. She only had to shift a little and lift her leg, and he could slide right into her. She was already nice and wet, even wetter than usual thanks to pregnancy hormones.
As Marcus’s warm hand slid over her hip and splayed against her belly, her breath caught. She was so tempted to tell him that she was carrying his fourth child. But she really wanted to surprise him on Christmas.
So she bit her tongue and just basked in the sensation of his palm stroking her belly, his thumb drawing lazy circles on her skin.
“It’s supposed to rain today,” he murmured.
“Is it?” Samara gazed out the bank of French doors. The wintry morning sun was barely breaking through the thick haze of clouds.
Marcus nuzzled her earlobe. “Wish we could stay in bed all day.”
“Mmm. So do I.” She loved the feel of his morning whiskers against her cheek. “Rainy weather is always perfect for cuddling.”
“Among other things.” He slid his hand down her belly to cup the smooth mound of her sex. When she quivered, his lips curved into a satisfied smile against her ear. “Maybe we can skip the party tonight but still drop the kids off with their grandparents.”
Samara laughed, looking over her shoulder at him. “You are so wrong.”
He grinned unabashedly.
That night they were attending a holiday party sponsored by the Atlanta chapter of Morehouse’s alumni association. Marcus was an active alumnus who donated generously to his alma mater, served on boards and committees, and assisted with fundraising and recruitment efforts. He and Samara rarely missed any Morehouse events.
“C’mon,” he murmured cajolingly, dipping his fingers between her legs to stroke along her slick crease. She rocked against his hand, aching to be filled. “We can drop them off early and then come back and get in the Jacuzzi.”
No Jacuzzi, Samara thought hazily
. According to her doctor, twenty minutes in the sauna was okay, but soaking in the Jacuzzi was too risky for the baby.
Marcus rubbed the hard knot of her clit. “From there we can take it to the bedroom…the kitchen…the library….” Husky chuckle. “Doesn’t really matter where we end up, as long as I’m buried deep inside you.”
Samara moaned, heat spreading from her lubricated pussy to her achy breasts. “Marcus…”
“Sounds good, doesn’t it?” Sucking her earlobe, he plunged one finger inside her, causing her to gasp with pleasure. “Let’s stay in tonight and enjoy each other some more. Let’s tear this place up, see if we can make ourselves another baby.”
His words sent her heart soaring. If only he knew!
Need swamped her as he fingered her with sensual strokes, the rough pad of his thumb brushing deliciously over her clit. She was close to orgasming when he slowly withdrew his fingers. She moaned and tilted her hips, ready for him to push his hard cock inside her.
Just as he lifted her leg over his, there was a loud knock on the door.
“Mom?” a boyish voice called out. “Dad?”
Marcus swore under his breath.
Samara turned her face into her pillow, muffling a laugh.
“What is it, Malcolm?” Marcus called out gruffly.
“Milan’s being a brat. Can you and Mom take her?”
Samara shot Marcus a rueful grin over her shoulder. “Are you sure you want more kids?”
He gave her a surly smile. “Let me get back to you on that.”
She laughed, pulling the covers up to conceal their nudity before calling out, “Bring her in, Mac.”
The double doors swung open as Malcolm trudged into the large master suite carrying his baby sister.
The sight of them brought a warm smile to Samara’s face. She sat up, clutching the covers to her chest. “Hey, babies.”
Malcolm looked tired and grumpy. “Hey, Mom and Dad.”
“Good morning.” Marcus lay back against a mound of pillows, his arms folded behind his head as he gave his daughter a mock-stern glare. “You causing trouble, little girl?”
She grinned impishly and shook her head.
“Yes, she is,” Malcolm grumbled. “She came busting into our room to ask if it was Christmas yet. When we told her no, she started pouting and whining about Santa being late.”
Marcus and Samara laughed.
Scowling, Malcolm stalked around to Samara’s side of the bed and gladly handed Milan over.
Grinning, Samara smooched her daughter’s chubby cheeks and hugged her close to her chest. Milan smelled warm and sweet, like fresh cotton and the coconut-infused shea butter that Samara used on her hair.
She snuggled up against Samara while grinning adorably at Marcus, who reached over and started tickling her tummy. Her delighted giggles and squeals filled every corner of the master suite.
Matthew wandered into the room, yawning and rubbing sleep from his eyes.
“Good morning, son,” Marcus and Samara greeted him.
“Mornin’,” he mumbled, crawling up onto the bed and sprawling on his stomach next to Malcolm. They wore matching blue pajamas and sported identical scowls directed at their baby sister.
“Thanks a lot for waking us up,” Matthew groused.
Milan blithely ignored him and snuggled into the crook of Samara’s arm, staring up at her with the thick-lashed, almond-shaped eyes they’d both inherited from Asha. “When is Christmas coming, Mommy?”
Samara smiled. “Christmas will be here in twenty days.”
“Aw, man,” Malcolm groaned. “That sounds so far away.”
Samara gave him an amused look. “Are you going to start complaining after you just accused your sister of doing the same thing?”
He grinned sheepishly. “No, ma’am.”
“Hey, Mom,” Matthew said, “when are you gonna put the Christmas presents under the tree?”
Samara lifted a brow. “What makes you so sure you’re getting any presents?”
His brow furrowed. “We always get presents.”
“Lots of ’em,” Malcolm added.
“Doesn’t mean you’re getting a lot this year,” Marcus drawled. “Or any at all.”
The twins exchanged alarmed glances.
Marcus chuckled, shaking his head at them. “Sometimes I think you boys forget just how good you have it. Your uncle Michael and I grew up poor. You’ve seen our old neighborhood and the house we lived in. Grandpa Sterling and Grandma Celeste did the best they could to provide for us, but they didn’t make a lot of money. So we couldn’t always get new clothes or the latest toys and video games. Sometimes all they could afford were groceries and the bare essentials. There are a lot of kids out there who are less fortunate than you boys. Kids who don’t have parents to buy them presents, kids who don’t live in big houses with swimming pools, kids who can’t attend fancy private schools.” Marcus looked his sons in the eye. “You boys have a lot to be grateful for. Don’t ever take your blessings for granted.”
Matthew and Malcolm looked suitably chastened. “Yes, sir,” they mumbled.
Samara looked at Marcus and gave him a subtle nod of approval.
He nodded back and winked.
Glancing around the room, Samara asked curiously, “Where’s Shadow?”
“I let him outside,” Matthew said.
Samara nodded, then clapped her hands together and announced, “Who wants pancakes?”
“I do!” all three children exclaimed.
“With blueberries!” Milan added.
“Of course.” Samara kissed the top of her daughter’s head, then leaned across the bed to set her down on the floor. “Why don’t you boys take your sister downstairs to watch TV. Dad and I will be down soon to start breakfast.”
As the kids darted off together, Marcus called after them, “And don’t forget to let Shadow in!”
After brushing their teeth and getting dressed—between stealing leisurely kisses—Marcus and Samara emerged from their bedroom.
They grinned at each other as they headed down the staircase. Fresh swags of garland cascaded down the curved banister and adorned the arched windows and doorways.
When they reached the ultramodern chef’s kitchen, Samara got busy whipping up pancake batter while Marcus brewed coffee.
The massive kitchen was the hub of their growing family. It boasted ample counter space and gleaming stainless steel appliances that included a Sub-Zero refrigerator and double ovens seamlessly built into the cabinetry. A humongous center island topped with marble was a popular gathering place. It was where the boys did their homework while munching on snacks after school. It was where Marcus and Samara would meet at the end of a long day to sip nonalcoholic wine, listen to soft music, and enjoy quiet conversation and laughter.
Arched columns divided the kitchen from a large breakfast nook with bay windows. Three sets of French doors opened onto a stone terrace that led down to an oversized swimming pool and cabana, which overlooked the landscaped grounds at the back of the property.
When the buzzer on the gourmet coffeemaker dinged, the fragrant aroma of the rich brew was so enticing that Samara’s mouth watered. She would have loved a cup of coffee, but she didn’t want to risk harming the baby. Just as she’d done with her other pregnancies, she was limiting her caffeine intake to once or twice a week at work (where she needed it the most).
When Marcus opened the cabinet and removed two mugs, she said casually, “I think I’ll just have some orange juice with breakfast.”
He shot her a surprised look. “Really? No coffee?”
She shook her head.
Marcus stared at her.
Before he could probe further, the phone rang on the counter above the sink. Grateful for the interruption, Samara went over and grabbed the cordless handset, smiling when she saw Celeste Rutherford’s number on the screen.
“Good morning,” she answered warmly.
“Hey, baby,” Celeste greeted h
er. “How are you?”
“I’m good. How about you?”
“I’m doing just fine. Hope it’s not too early to call?”
“Not at all. We’re all up and about. Marcus and I are making breakfast.”
Placing a skillet on the range top, Marcus caught Samara’s eye and mouthed, Who is it?
Your mom, she mouthed back.
He nodded and got busy frying bacon.
“Where are my grandbabies?” Celeste asked fondly.
“Downstairs watching TV.” Samara padded to the refrigerator and took out a container of fresh blueberries.
“I miss them so much,” Celeste lamented. “I haven’t seen them since the boys’ birthday bash in October.”
“I know,” Samara commiserated, rinsing off the blueberries. “Will you be able to join us for Christmas?”
“I wish,” Celeste said with a deep sigh. “I was really hoping we could make it, but Grant wants to spend the holidays with his mother in Vermont. You know she’s getting up there in years, and we don’t know how much longer she’ll be around.”
“I understand,” Samara said, dumping the blueberries into the pancake batter. The aroma of fresh brewed coffee and sizzling bacon was making her stomach growl. She had been waiting for the dreaded morning sickness to hit her, but so far she’d been spared.
“We’re all going to Savannah to hear Mama Wolf speak at the MLK celebration in January,” Samara reminded her mother-in-law. “My good friend Melissa and her husband will also be flying down from D.C. Maybe you and Grant can join us that weekend as well.”
“Maybe.” Celeste paused, then couldn’t resist adding a touch sourly, “I’m sure your mother won’t miss our presence at Christmas.”
Samara didn’t know how to respond to that. There was no love lost between her mother and Celeste. She and Marcus tried their best to stay out of it.
Pretending not to hear Celeste’s remark, Samara said sincerely, “I hope you and Grant can make it to Savannah.”
“Thank you, baby. I hope so, too.”
Samara smiled, walking over to Marcus. “Let me put your son on the phone so you can say hello.”
Oh Baby: A Holiday Novella (Wolf Pack Book 9) Page 3